


The Mithril Shirt

by InkStainedHands1177



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Creepy Thror, Gen, Unwanted attention, Young Thorin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 22:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6169951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkStainedHands1177/pseuds/InkStainedHands1177
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin had always been King Thror's favorite grandchild.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mithril Shirt

**Author's Note:**

> I always wondered why the Dwarves, who are so much larger than Hobbits, had a mithril shirt made in the perfect size of a Hobbit. This is my explanation.  
> Ink…

The Mithril Shirt

Thorin stared out the window at the pale blue sky. He sighed and curled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. He felt far too young to be a Prince. After all he was only twenty-three years old.

“Thorin, what are you doing here?”

Brother stared at brother. “What does it look like I’m doing, Frerin? Avoiding Grandfather. He’s acting weird again.”

Frerin sighed and shook his head. He sat beside his brother on the window sill. “Father wouldn’t let anything happen to us, Thorin. Neither would grandfather do anything to us.”

Thorin’s mind flashed back to last week, in a darkly lit corner of the Treasury Room. Thror had bade Thorin to walk with him. His grandfather had said many bizarre things, some had been rather frightening.

_‘You are my favorite grandson, Thorin. My favorite. You rival everything I own in this treasury.’_

_Thorin stared at his grandfather. ‘Own?’_

_Thror laughed. ‘But of course, Thorin. You are mine. You shall always be mine.’ Thror stared at Thorin. ‘That is why I am giving you something precious, because you should only be given precious things.’ Thror gave Thorin a mithril shirt. ‘It will keep you safe. Safe, safe, safe.’ He chuckled and pulled Thorin closer. ‘Come. Take off your coat and tunic and try it on.’_

Thorin shivered. Thror had gotten quite frustrated when Thorin refused to remove his clothing at first. Thorin, in order to appease his grandfather, ended up allowing Thror himself, to take off Thorin’s cloak and tunic and inner shirt. The old Dwarf’s fingers had touched Thorin with almost a lover’s caress…

Thorin shuddered and looked out the window. “His precious thing…”

Frerin looked up. “What?”

“That’s what he called me, Rin. He called me, ‘His precious thing.’”

Frerin blinked rapidly and then coughed. “I think…you shouldn’t spend any more time alone with grandfather. He’s become…he’s becoming attached to you.”

Thorin nodded. “I know.” He looked past his brother and in the direction of the Treasury Room. He opened his coat and showed Frerin the mithril shirt. “I will never wear this thing.” He threw it away from him and it slid under his bed. “Never.”

Frerin sighed. “Precious…” He looked at Thorin. “Grandfather’s insane.”

Thorin only nodded. “I’m afraid.” He stared at his brother. “I’ve always been told that I’m just like grandfather…”

Frerin shook his head. “No!” He grabbed Thorin’s hands in his own. “You _are_ like grandfather, but you’re also like father too! Thorin! _You’re stronger than Grandfather!_ ”

Thorin stared at his brother. “You think so?”

Frerin nodded. “Aye. I _know_ it. You may fall for whatever madness he has, but you won’t let it conquer you, Thorin. You, Thorin, son of Thrain, would _always_ do the right thing _in the end._ ”

Thorin felt phantom fingers caress his torso. He imagined dark eyes, glazed with lust for flesh and gold. Thorin leaned against his brother and sighed. “I am glad at least someone believes that.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Also, what goes around, comes around. Thror gave Thorin something to signify how precious Thorin was to him. Thorin gave Bilbo the same thing to signify how precious Bilbo was to him. Or something like that… ; )  
> Ink...


End file.
